The rain began to come down in the last day before Ness finally left the mountains behind, crossing the border into the forest edges. It was blissful on Ness' skin. The morning sun was still heavy behind her as she walked, her eyes watching the flats for any sign. It had been days since she'd seen the tracks in the dirt left behind by her quarry, but Ness had followed it this far, and knew it must have followed the same mountain pass. The rain would wipe her own light tracks clean, but the heavy hoof marks left when her quarry touched the ground were deep and unmistakable.
Ness felt the relief of the softness beneath her feet as the rocky grounds finally gave way to at first sparse, but soon dense, grass. The seemingly endless stone walls and cliff edges of her journey had brought with them an oppressive weight to her search, and as she felt the grass between her toes for the first time in so long, Ness found herself dropping to her knees. She felt the rich dirt under her fingernails, breathed in the heady smell of fresh dew, and let her wide eyes gaze over the lush world in front of her, taking it all in again.
For weeks in the mountains, stony grounds had hurt her feet and merciless suns had chapped at her naked flesh, but just the sight of the rich greenery of the forest ahead washed the aches away like a cool river, promising relief. Ness took in a deep breath, smelled the grass and the light scene of the little white flowers that peeked out from between the undergrowth, and rose to her feet once more. She wanted nothing more than to throw off her heavy satchel and roll in the grass, play with the birds, chase the bees that clumsily bumbled about the blooms, but she didn't have any time. Every moment she hesitated, she could be losing time. It had been a while since she had consulted the flame, and she was worried that she'd lost ground since then.
The straps of her satchel pulled at Ness' tired shoulders, the bare skin rough where the heavy thing had hung about them for so long. She gave the worn straps a tug and pulled the satchel higher on her back. It was her burden to bear. She shook her head every so slightly, just to feel the reassuring weight of the jewel clipped in her hair, its red feathers waving, before she strode on.
The forest was so thick by midday that the sun was hidden by the heavy foliage above. It came to dapple across the mossy forest floor, where Ness had stopped to drop into a little stream. Just for a moment, she told herself, just one moment of peace. Her satchel placed safely to the shore, Ness let the quietly warbling stream wash her free of the mountain dust. Her green skin shone in the rays of light from above. So long apart from home, the luminosity of Ness' skin had faded. She could barely even see the glow of her flesh in the night anymore. It made her sad, Ness felt like a part of her was fading away with it. She told herself, once again, that when all this was done, when she finally finished her quest, that she would be able to return home, and her flesh would gleam the moonlight shine of her folk again.
As she stood beside the stream, letting the water run down off her body, Ness looked down at her marks. Purple against the green of her flesh, she let her fingertips trace a few. She didn't need to count, she knew there were eighty-six of the delicate petals marked onto her body. Dropping to a crouch, she opened the satchel. Her eyes searched the forest around her for movement as her fingers searched the pockets within. Every little flicker of movement in the dense undergrowth Ness noticed, the slow movement of a ladybird that made its lazy way up a vine nearby, the flicker of light on butterfly wings as a glorious blue specimen lighted onto a flower. Ness' fingers brushed the little orb, smooth surface cold among the other cluttered contents of the satchel, and found purchase on a tiny parcel wrapped in leaves. It was the last one she had left, but wouldn't keep much longer.
Her fingertips teased aside the leaf and Ness chewed on the revealed morsel of honeybread quietly. The tips of her long pointed ears twitched, and her eyes darted across to where the rustle of noise had come from. Barely audible, the little deer had appeared across the way, drawn to the water. Its wide eyes stared at Ness for a moment, so still as she was, naked against the green of the forest, she was barely noticeable if it weren't for the delicate shine of her only garment, the gold bracers. The eyes of the deer met her own, and Ness smiled warmly. The creatures of the forest knew the folk and soon the deer relaxed, approaching the river to drink at her side.
Ness crumbled the last corner of her bread onto a stone by the riverside as she rose to leave. Sliding the heavy satchel onto her back, she gave the deer a stroke as it came to nibble at the crumbs. Lighter on her feet than even the deer, Ness continued into the forest, telling her direction by the moss upon the trees.
Ness had found the hoofprint at nightfall, not far from where she'd found the fallen bird. She knelt by it to look, and saw that it bore the usual marks. Neck broken suddenly and cruelly, drained not just of blood but of soul. The little body was cold, but the ground around it was freshly disturbed, flowers crushed. It hadn't been long. Ness stood, and darted forward through the green vines that draped from above. She felt the weight of the jewel bobbing in her hair as she ran, her bare feet padding the forest floor swiftly and soundlessly. Light was fading, and Ness' eyes fought to see the signs she searched for.
The rain that had been so blissful before had obscured the way, and Ness crouched in the forest, her fingers desperately searching for marks. So close, she was so close and now she had lost it. She bit her lip. There was nothing else for it, she couldn't let it gain ground again, not after so long. She found shelter beneath a great fern looming over the forest floor, and knelt there in the darkness. From the bracer strapped to her forearm she pulled the little stick of incense. It had been so long at first, and had burned gloriously, it's blazing light so full of secrets and truths and clarity. Ness blew upon the blackened tip, and with a deep green glow, the little stick flared to life.
The flame pulsed, glowing and rearing, not much larger than Ness' head as she held it, and the tiny figure that stretched out within the flame stared back at Ness, her eyes pleading.
"Child...I have not much time left," the little figure said, her voice a hushed whisper. Once, the figure had stood seven feet tall, and her voice had boomed, echoing in the hills, her fire a blaze in the night.
"I'm so close, it's here, I have to stop it here, can you light the way?" Ness whispered to the figure in the flame. It seemed to flare smaller even as she watched.
"Go child...run!" the figure hissed, and the flames flared up once more, before extinguishing in a flash that made Ness cover her eyes. For a moment, she was terrified that she'd burned it too long, before the forest floor beneath her lit with a burst of green fire, streaking off into the darkness of the glade at incredible speed. The fire lurched, seeming no to harm the grass all around it, and lit the way. Ness replaced the incense stick in her bracer, shorter now as it was after every time, and fumbled with the satchel, snatching the orb as quick as she could. Gripping the cool surface of it in her hand, Ness darted off to follow the flames.
When the flames burned out it was all at once, dropping the forest into darkness in the blink of an eye. Ness came to a halt, her breath tight in her chest, her eyes darting, and her hands held still. For a moment there was nothing, the forest was empty of life, no insects chirped, no awakened birds flapped, there was only the sound of Ness breathing. She held it, let the silence cover her. Snatching the jewel from the clasp in her hair, she held it aside her head, close to her eye, staring into it as she slowly turned.
The red surface of the jewel reflected the forest so keenly it was uncanny, a perfect mirror reflection clearer than reality itself. Ness watched carefully, seeing her own face and the forest around her, seeking anything that wasn't visible to the naked eye. The slightest movement, the tiniest rustle of grass.
Her ears twitched, and she turned towards the sound. There was nothing there to regular vision, but glancing back into the reflection of the jewelsight betrayed the huge form of the Nuckelavee as it surged towards her out of the blackness of the night. Ness fought the urge to scream as the beast barreled down upon her, gigantic limbs thrashing, glistening skinless flesh reflecting in the jewel. With her other hand, Ness raised the orb and flung it.
The orb struck the beast in the forehead with unerring accuracy. There was a flash of light in the jewel, so bright it almost bled through into the real world, and the beast was gone. Ness realized she was still holding her breath, and let it go with a whoosh.
The orb lay upon the forest floor, steaming as rain began to fall upon it. Ness hesitated to pick it up, anticipating the pain. This had been a bigger one than before, faster, seething with hate. Steeling herself, Ness reached out.
The pain was unbearable. All the hatred and anger and rage the Nuckelavee held, Ness felt it all. The resentment for all life, the unbearable hunger, Ness took it all within herself. She felt the mark burning itself onto her flesh. One more petal opening, blossoming on her body. Suddenly, it was over, she sighed. It was her burden.
The rain came down in full then, soaking the forest. Ness stood in silence. Naked, and once more alone. Ness placed the orb back into the satchel. Its weight on her shoulders both tiring and reassuring. Delicately, she clipped the feathered jewel back into her hair, its weight further adding to the sense of security, of purpose.
There was the briefest flicker in the ground at her feet, the last remnants of her guide. The fires flicked, directing her to look west. So it was then. Ness knew she had no time to rest. Her next quarry could be gaining ground even now. She began to walk.
Ness did not need to count the petals on her body. She knew there were eighty-seven now. That meant there was only twelve more to go.
-
Inspired by the Art of Tess Fowler.
